


Who Willingly Wears Knife-Boots?

by Kivea



Category: South Park
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Cliche, Comedy, Fluff, Getting Together, Humor, Ice Skating, M/M, Rated mostly just for swearing, Romance, because there's a LOT of swearing, late teens, romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-16
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-19 14:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13706484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivea/pseuds/Kivea
Summary: Tweek agrees to go ice-skating with his good friends, Stan and Kyle, who unfortunately bring Cartman along for the ride. He does he best to stay on his feet despite his inexperience on the ice, but he didn't account for what a back stabbing guy Cartman can be.Which is how he ends up in his crush's arms, in the middle of an ice skating rink, which isway too much pressure.





	Who Willingly Wears Knife-Boots?

It was every bit the nightmare he was expecting. Tweek stood at the entrance to the ice-rink, looking down at the white sheet in front of him, waiting for him, with both his hands positioned on the walls that surrounded it. Stan was in front of him with a hand outstretched and a smile on his face, waiting to help him onto the ice. Ever ready to lend him a helping hand. 

“Come on, dude. It’s not too bad.” 

Tweek grit his teeth at the reassurance. “I-I’ve not done this before! Not-not since I was, like,  _eight_ or something.” 

There was a grunt from behind him. “You’re holding up the line, Tweek, get on the fucking ice already.” 

“Shut up, fatass. Let him do it in his own time.” 

“Don’t call me fat, ya dumb Jew!” 

Before he could turn to watch the two behind him bicker, Stan moved forward to peel his gloved hand off one of the edges of the entrance and gave a light tug. 

“Come on. You’ve got this.” 

Tweek put one of the knifed boots onto the ice. He gave a whimper as he felt the sturdiness of the plasticated flooring leave. 

As soon as there was room enough Cartman bullied his way onto the ice, landing a chubby elbow into Tweek’s back. The blonde let out a shriek as he felt himself get propelled forward and was eternally thankful that Stan was there to hold onto him and keep him standing, because he  _knew_ he would’ve ended up on his ass. 

“Get out the way, gaywad!” 

Stan glared across at the brunette who began to kick off round the ice. “You’re an asshole!” 

He was ignored. 

“You alright, dude?” 

Tweek gave a nervous nod of his head. “Y-yeah, I think so. Stupid dickhead.” 

“I know. Grab hold of the railing round the edge, it’ll help keep you steady.” 

Tweek did as he was instructed, finally letting go of Stan in order to take hold of the wooden railing instead. He glanced behind himself after the first few tentative steps to see Kyle pulling himself onto the ice, wobbling for a few moments as he adjusted to the feeling. One green-mittened hand was clutching the wooden railing, brows pulled together in concentration as he tried to get used to it and the other hand out to keep balance. 

Stan gave a joyous laugh as he watched them both, taking hold of Kyle’s free hand once the redhead let go of the railing. “You good?” 

“Yeah,” Kyle nodded. “I am. It’s just-been a while. Gotta get used to it again.” 

The blue eyed boy rolled his eyes and turned to Tweek. “Kyle’s got two left feet.” 

“I-I thought Cartman was just- _nnggh_ -being a dick when he said that?” 

“He was. But he wasn’t wrong,” Kyle muttered through gritted teeth. “One lap round and I should be okay.” 

“Do you need me to help you round?” 

Kyle’s gaze flickered to Tweek. The blonde knew what was coming. He’d kind of been preparing for it. He knew that Stan and Kyle would want to stick together, and he didn’t want Cartman’s help even if the boy offered it. Instead he gave a shaky smile, dimly wishing that Butters or Kenny had been able to join them, and tried to keep his voice level as he responded: 

“I’ll-I’ll be fine! You…go round, don’t let me-let me hold you back.” 

“You’re not holding us back, Tweek,” Kyle insisted. 

“We’ll check up on you on our way back round,” Stan offered, not hesitating to take his offer like Kyle had. “Let’s go, Kyle!” 

The pair pulled away from the railing, one leaning heavily on the other, and began to skate round at a much slower speed than what Cartman had disappeared with. 

Tweek wondered what had possessed him to agree to this in the first place. 

Instead he began to pull himself along using the railing, not daring to lift either foot of the floor. He’d never felt so unsteady in his life and all he could imagine was that if he fell over he’d end up having his fingers sliced off by some other skater going over his hand with their death shoes and glinting blades and then he’d end up in hospital and they’d get infected and-! 

He took a deep breath and counted to ten in his head. He needed to keep a level head for this. Nothing bad was going to happen. 

He pulled himself along and blocked out the people passing by his side and moving round his slow pace. There were a few others that seemed glued to the railing like he was, some of them even daring to go onto the ice just to overtake those who were particularly slow. 

Like he was. 

It was kind of a blow to the ego when a child who barely reached his hips awkwardly shuffled past him and back to the railing, their parents next to them cooing and praising the whole time. 

Tweek swore under his breath. This was ridiculous. 

He made it to the first corner of the rink and decided it was time to take a break. He pressed his back to the wall and supported himself on the railings, glancing round the place in search of his friends. The blue and red patterned hat Stan wore stuck out next to the green his best friend wore, spotting them laughing and joking half way round the ice. Cartman… 

“Aww, look at the little twink, frightened in the corner!” 

Tweek glared at the large man next to him. “I’m not a  _twink_! Don’t- _fucking_ -call me that!” 

Cartman just sneered. “Whatever. Are you gonna spend the whole time glued to the wall, or are you gonna actually skate?” 

“I’m building myself up to it.” 

“You know, if you want I can-!” 

“No.” 

Cartman blew a raspberry. “Suit yourself, Twin-I mean,  _Tweek_.” 

The blonde fixed a glare on Cartman’s back as he skated away. 

He didn’t move until Stan and Kyle re-joined him. The initial skate round appeared to have done wonders for Kyle, leaving him able to stand on his own without the help of his best friend, a bright smile on his flushed cheeks. Stan instead offered to hold one of Tweek’s hands and help him make it to the next corner. Stan’s help was much more appreciated. 

The three began to skate round, Kyle right behind Tweek nattering away about something that the blonde couldn’t concentrate on given all his attention was on his feet as he tried to walk across the ice. Stan kept the conversation going enough without his help. He had more important things to do. 

Tweek let out a breath of relief as they reached the second corner of the rink and grasped hold of the railing with both hands, glancing over his shoulder to look at Stan. 

“How do-how do you do this so- _hm_ -so elegantly?” 

The boy simply laughed. “I’ve been doing this for years, dude. I love ice-skating.” 

Kyle rolled his eyes. “He and Cartman come here a lot when we were kids. They still do, just…not as often.” 

“We’re busier now. I’m nineteen, I have responsibilities.” 

Tweek grumbled as he pulled himself up properly and tried to work the slump out of his shoulders. “You can-you can do another lap.” 

“Are you sure?” Kyle pressed. “We don’t mind waiting. We came here to hang out together, not just skate.” 

“I’m sure. I’ll be fine.” 

Stan was again the one who took him up on it with a wide grin. “We’ll do a lap then come help you to the next corner, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Tweek forced a smile. “I-I think I’m getting it.” 

It was a blatant lie that Kyle definitely didn’t believe given the raised brow and disapproving look sent his way, but Stan bought it without a second’s hesitation. Probably because he was so eager to rip round the ice as it was. 

The best friends were off again, Kyle mostly able to stand on his own now though it didn’t stop them holding hands to keep each other standing. 

“So I see the boyfriends left you. Again.” 

Tweek observed Cartman with narrowed eyes. 

“It’s okay; I’ll skate with you so you’re not alone.” 

He could count on one hand the amount of times Cartman had been nice to him during their time as friends. And they’d been friends since elementary. That averaged out as less than one everyone two years. Cartman was not to be trusted when he was being nice. It meant he was planning something, and you ran the risk of being involved. 

Tweek grumbled out a thank you despite himself and began to pull himself along the railing again, eyes fixated on the ice below to ensure he didn’t end up skating over any bumps or lost gloves in his attempt to remain standing during this experience. 

It’ll be fun, they’d said. A bonding experience, they’d said. You never hang out with us anymore, they’d said. 

This was why he never hung out with them anymore, the little-! 

He stumbled and let out a yelp of surprise, keeping himself steady on the railing and pressing his hip to the wall. Jesus  _fuck_. 

“You’re never going to improve if you keep clinging to the wall like a big baby,” Cartman scoffed out with an eye roll. He extended a gloved hand, scowl on his face where the false innocence had been only five minutes before. “Here.” 

“No. I don’t want your help.” 

“I’m not going to eat it, Tweek. Just take my hand.” 

“ _No_.” 

“For fucks sake-I bet you can’t even let go of that dumb railing. Maybe that’s it. Your hands are actually  _glued_ to it with all the faggy tears you’ve been crying about Stan and Kyle off being gay without you and-!” 

Tweek felt his blood beginning to boil, glaring up at the brunette. “Fine! If it’ll get you to- _fucking-_ _nng_ -shut up then I’ll take your fucking hand!” 

As soon as his hand, covered in the red gloves he’d borrowed off Stan, made contact with Cartman’s hand a wicked smirk spread across the fat cheeks. Tweek’s eyes widened as Cartman gave a tug, pulling him away from the wall while his guard was down. 

“You’ll thank me later,” Cartman promised. 

“You  _asshole what_ _are you-_?!” 

With a surprising amount of grace Cartman took his arm and spun them both round, launching Tweek across the ice and away from the railing. 

The cold air bit against his cheeks. He waved his arms in an attempt to keep himself steady, eyes glued to the ice as panic began to set in and his heart sped up to pump adrenaline through his veins, quickly followed by him sucking a quick breath in before letting out a piercing scream as he realised he had  _no fucking control oh god how do I stop how do I stop-_

“ _How do I_ -?!” 

The collision was inevitable. 

He saw the rented white skates and black jeans before he crashed face first into the person in front of him. He let out an ‘ _oof_ _’_ before hands grasped onto his arms and he latched onto the mystery person. They both stumbled, wobbling on the ice, before they went down. 

It probably would’ve been a lot worse if he’d actually hit the ice fully instead of landing on someone. 

He pulled back from the coat-covered torso and pushed himself up; preparing to launch into a full scale apology despite the growing wetness on his knees but his sentence was cut short as he saw who it was Cartman had catapulted him into. He let out another shriek before looking over his shoulder to see the piece of  _shit_ standing exactly where he’d been left, wiggling his fingers in a wave and fluttering his eyelashes before continuing on his way. 

That  _backstabbing_ good for nothing little-?! 

“Tweek?” 

He snapped back to the boy he’d crashed into. Starry blue eyes pierced his anger. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Craig!” Tweek didn’t intended to shout it, but that’s kind of how it came out. “Why are you here?!” 

There was a knitted grey and blue chullo on his head, a trademark he’d never quite grown out of. Not since Tweek had got him a new one for a Secret Santa they did when they were all sixteen right before school got  _way_  too tough. 

It was that one he was wearing now. Tweek resisted the impulse to comment on it. Or cry. 

“I’m here to skate?” Craig raised a brow at him. “Why else would I be here?” 

“Right!” he gave a nervous laugh that was far too forced. “Skate! Yeah, uh- _shit_ -yeah I’ll-I’ll just-?!” 

Craig began to pull himself into a standing position without another word. Tweek was left with a whole new problem to deal with that wasn’t just about how Cartman had  _thrown him head first straight into his stupid crush._

He didn’t know how to actually get up. 

He sucked in a breath and went to place both hands on the ice-! 

Wait no. He couldn’t. He had to keep his fingers in. If he put open palms on the ice someone might skate too close and cut off his fingers or-! 

“Here.” 

He looked up to see Craig staring down at him, face as passive as ever, with one hand outstretched waiting for him to take. 

Tweek stared a little too long. 

Craig wiggled his fingers for him to take. 

He snapped himself out the stooper and took the hand that was offered, cursing Craig’s grey gloves and his own borrowed ones for a moment for keeping their hands from actually touching while also thanking them a thousand thank you’s for keeping their hands from actually touching. And also keeping their fingers from frostbite or whatever. 

“Do you need help getting back to the side?” 

Tweek glanced up. He weighed his options. If he said no, he’d look a little less like a totally  _failure_ , until he tried to awkwardly shuffle back and probably fall again and this time he’d end up on his ass and look worse. 

He nodded. 

Craig didn’t let go of his hand. Instead he locked their arms together and pulled Tweek along, muttering instructions on what to do with his feet as they made their way over to the side. Before they even got in reaching distance Tweek was attempting to grasp for the wooden rail, leaning forward and cursing his small arms. 

It felt right once his fingers wrapped round it. He felt safer. He was  _never_ trusting Cartman ever again. Even if that was something he’d said before this time he  _really meant it_. 

“Aren’t you here with Stan’s lot?” 

Tweek startled at the question. He looked up to see Craig had also taken hold of the rail, preventing him from making an ungraceful escape to the next corner where he could  _see_ Cartman gossiping away with Stan and Kyle, who were watching him out the corner of their eyes. 

No wonder Stan was so fucking quick to abandon him. He was probably in on it  _too_. 

“Yes,” he ground out. “But Cartman’s a dick. And- _ngh_ -Stan and Kyle are faster.” 

Craig’s brows furrowed and his lips turned down in distaste. “Doesn’t mean they should fucking ditch you.” 

“I told them-to-to go. I-I didn’t wanna…” he shrugged it off and gave what he hoped came off as a reassuring smile. “I’ve not skated in a while.” 

“How long’s a while?” 

“Like, ten years or something?” 

Craig’s eyes widened. “Dude.” 

“What?!” 

“I can’t believe they ditched you.” 

Tweek snorted at that. “I can.” 

“Do you want me to help you?” 

He glanced around them, trying to search for whoever Craig was with. 

“Clyde’s gone to get food. Apparently he needed a break. Token went with him.” 

“Won’t-won’t they want to…when they come back?” 

Craig shrugged. 

That was his only response. 

Tweek gripped the railing harder. “I’m fine.” 

Craig raised a brow. 

“Seriously. I’m fine.” 

His piercing gaze took one slow look up from Tweek’s feet to his face. The blonde did  _not_ blush. 

“Seriously!” 

Craig shrugged again and pulled back from the railing before he gestured for Tweek to continue. “Suit yourself.” 

Was that a test? He felt like that was a test. Did he fail? Shit, he could’ve totally got Craig’s help skating, like out of one of those shitty stories Bebe liked to read so much. But also he probably would’ve ended up dragging them both back down onto the ice again and was it really worth looking like a total fucking loser in front of  _Craig Tucker_ just to fulfil some dumb pipe dream? 

No. No it wasn’t. 

He began his awkward shuffle forward once again, looking up to try find his friends. As soon as their eyes met Stan and Cartman each took one of Kyle’s arms and began skating off with matching grins, Stan shooting Tweek a wink. 

God  _fucking_ damn it. 

It didn’t take him long before he realised Craig was lazily skating along next to him, instead of shooting off like everyone else had done. Did he not get the message? Why was he still  _there_ , in Tweek’s  _space_ , making his heart do weird palpitations?! 

He glared up at Craig, whose eyes remained forward. “I said I didn’t-need-help!” 

Craig nodded once. “Yeah, I know.” 

“Why are you still  _here_ then?!” 

“Cause I want to be.” 

Don’t blush. Don’t blush.  _Don’t_ blush. 

Tweek managed a few more shaky steps before he began to stumble, one foot going out just a little too far and-! 

Craig grasped his arm and kept him steady. Like it was no big deal. 

“Thanks.” 

“Sure.” 

They continued the awkward shuffle until they reached the corner of the rink and Tweek positioned himself as he had for the other two corners; back flat against the half-wall, either hand gripping the railing, holding himself as high as he could. 

Craig had stuffed his hands in his pockets and stood opposite him as he stared straight at the blonde. Sometimes Tweek hated how Craig never seemed to shy away from eye contact. 

He saw Token and Clyde approaching, chatting between themselves. The brunette nudged his friend with a mischievous grin as they slowed down upon the approach. Craig seemed too busy staring at him to notice his friends getting closer. 

It was kind of funny to see the usually put together Tucker boy nearly shit himself when Clyde’s hands clamped down on his shoulders. 

Clyde’s voice came out in a sing-song tone as he looked over to Tweek, though he never quite stopped skating. “ _Heey_  Tweek!” 

Tweek let go of the railing long enough to give a short wave. 

Clyde gave a hearty laugh before the pair continued round the ice. When Tweek’s eyes snapped back to Craig he noticed the pinkness in the boy’s cheeks, and the way his eyes had turned to the sky. He looked kind of like a pouting child who hadn’t gotten their way. It was…oddly endearing. 

“Fine,” Tweek bit out, stretching a hand out for Craig. “But you better not- _hkk_ -pull a Cartman!” 

Craig’s entire being seemed to lift at that, the slouch in his shoulders disappearing as he pulled his hands out his pockets and took hold of Tweek’s, a smirk settling on his face. “I’ll try resist the urge.” 

Yeah, he definitely blushed that time. Those were some mighty warm cheeks. Good thing it was so cold. 

The pair began to skate towards the next corner. Craig turned out to be an alright teacher, mostly just telling Tweek to watch the person in front of them and copy what they did. That he wasn’t walking, he was pushing, though Tweek’s mind assured him he wasn’t doing either of those things so much as focusing entirely on how warm the arm that was secured around his own was, their fingers linked together and their elbows locked tight to keep them both steady. 

They made it to the next corner and Craig only paused to ask him a simple question: 

“Do you want to get off?” 

He looked up with wide eyes, before he turned to see the exit approaching. 

“Don’t force yourself to skate. We can just grab a drink or something while the others skate.” 

He was half tempted to say yes. 

But he didn’t. Instead he shook his head and sucked in a breath, giving a shaky smile up to the taller boy. “I’m-it’s kinda fun.” 

Craig turned away, but Tweek didn’t miss the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Am I gonna have to-to let go-for-for the-?” 

“Yeah,” Craig’s grip tightened round his arm. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.” 

He trusted the words. 

When they approached Craig began to pull them away from the wall. There were people crowding round the exit and the entrance just beyond in desperate attempts to come and go, newcomers who were fresh to the ice and needed extra time adjusting, and groups of friends who were all trying to leave at the same time. 

The hand that had been holding the railing was loose in the air for a few seconds to keep balance before it locked onto the arm pressed against his own. He clutched onto Craig as he was guided past the doors, yet when they cleared the crowds Craig made no attempt at going back towards the railing. 

“Craig?!” Tweek looked up with eyes full of panic. “The railing!” 

Craig smiled down at him. “You’ve got this. You can do it.” 

He always had a way of making Tweek believe in himself. He was kind of  _inspiring_ like that. 

Stan and Kyle past by them, the latter seeming a lot more comfortable on his feet than he had previously. The redhead turned to say something to them, but Stan pulled him away with a hushed  _leave them alone,_ only confirming Tweek’s suspicious that he’d been part of Cartman’s master plan. 

Kyle glanced over his shoulder at them both with furrowed brows and an apologetic smile, giving a thumbs up. 

Tweek let go of Craig’s arm long enough to respond to the gesture. The creases in the redhead’s forehead smoothed out, and instead he turned to smile and wave at Craig, who flipped him the middle finger. 

“So…” 

His eyes flickered up to the dark haired boy on his arm before turning his attention back to the death trap below. He hummed in acknowledgement of the question, feeling a muscle twitch at his eye. 

“What made you come skating?” 

“Oh, uh…” he floundered at the question. “Stan and Cartman do it often. Kenny and Butters were invited too, but-uhh-I think Kenny couldn’t afford it? And- _ngh_ -Butters is grounded.” 

“Butters is  _nineteen_.” 

“Yeah and he’s grounded.” 

Craig scoffed. “He needs to stand up for himself.” 

“I dunno man. I’d be pretty scared of his dad too.” 

“You shouldn’t be. You’re scarier than Steven Stotch.” 

Tweek tried to hide his smile. “What about you?” 

“Huh?” 

“What-what made you come skating?” 

“Oh,” Craig seemed to stumble at the question. “Clyde dragged me.” 

Seemed legit. 

“He said we were going to Taco Bell.” 

Tweek couldn’t stop the ugly snort of laughter that tore its way out his body. “Seriously?” 

“Yeah. Lying bastard.” 

“I feel better about- _Jesus_ -dragging you away.” 

“You should. Serves him right. Tricking me like this. I’d rather spend time in your company.” 

His heart stuttered. His stomached flipped. 

Craig cleared his throat. “Y’know, cause you don’t, like, lie. Usually.” 

“I do sometimes.” 

“Oh really?” 

Tweek smirked up through his lashes. “Yeah.” 

“Like when?” 

“Like-like when I told you I got that hat on eBay.” 

Craig reached up to pat the knitted item on his head. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Tweek bit down on his lip. Bit down on the truth he’d wanted to tell Craig when they were sixteen and sat round in a circle exchanging presents with the other students. Yet he’d panicked and blurted out the lie so not to embarrass himself in front of everyone. “I-I got my mom to help me make it.” 

Craig gaped down at him, hand still on the hat. 

“I-I mean, it’s not, like, I  _made_ it,” Tweek rushed to clarify. “I-I wasn’t very good at-I mostly just, like, told her what I wanted and- _Jesus Christ_ -she made it cause she’s really domesticated like that-I mean I tried to make one but it didn’t go very well so she made it properly and I just- _SHIT_ -?!” 

His feet began to stumble on the ice in his panicked rambling, losing his balance on the knife-boots. Craig’s grip was secure. He kept them standing. 

“Uh…” Tweek refused to look up at the other boy despite his desire to see the look on his face. “Thanks.” 

“Sure.” 

They continued to skate in silence. Tweek could  _feel_ his heartbeat in his ears. Jesus fuck this entire experience was like flirting with  _death_ , if death was ice and sharp blades. 

“It’s my favourite hat.” 

His head snapped up so quickly it cricked. “What?!” 

“It’s my favourite hat,” Craig repeated a little louder. “I don’t wear it every day like I used to, but when I have an excuse I do. It’s…your mom did a really good job. And the design is…it’s exactly what I like.” 

Tweek felt pride surge through him at the knowledge, a flattery that left him feeling a little light headed. “I’m glad.” 

“I kind of-I always hoped I’d get you the next time we did Secret Santa,” Craig fumbled out. “So I could get you something. That was, y’know, just as nice.” 

“What would you have got?” 

He shrugged. Tweek felt the entire movement from where their arms were locked together. “I dunno. Probably something dumb. I would’ve spent weeks trying to think of something and not come up with any ideas so I’d have impulse bought you, like, ten fidget spinners or something.” 

Tweek snorted out another laugh. “Fucking dick.” 

Craig grinned. “At least it would’ve made you laugh, I guess.” 

“I-I could’ve tried to spin them all at the same time.” 

“That’d be kickass. Do you think you could?” 

“No way, man. I’d  _try_ , but I’m-I’m not  _steady_ enough.” 

“You could just throw them at Cartman instead. Like throwing stars.” 

There was an obnoxious whistled behind them that had Tweek jumping out his skin and pulling away and  _when did they get so close-shit was he going to fall again?_

Craig turned and shot a glare at whoever it was. “Fuck off, Clyde.” 

The brunette sniggered as he skated past them with Token in tow. “Having  _fun_  on your little da- _ah shit_ -!” 

Tweek felt a sick sense of satisfaction as Craig snapped a hand out as if to grab Clyde who responded by stumbling away and falling flat on his ass. Token stopped long enough to roll his eyes and offer his friend a hand up while Craig and Tweek skated on by. 

“What a douche.” 

“Yup.” 

They continued round the rink and Tweek found himself able to keep himself mostly steady as they made their fifth, sixth, and seventh time round. They were no where near the speeds that Stan and Kyle seemed to be building up to, and didn’t have the (again, surprising) grace of Cartman, but considering where he’d started he was pretty fucking proud of himself. 

When Craig finally unlocked their arms, he made no move to let go of Tweek’s hand. Tweek didn’t mind in the slightest. 

Half way through listening to a story about Clyde’s latest failed conquest with one of the old Raisins girls that he’d dragged Craig into, Tweek found himself silently thanking Cartman. The thought would’ve made him a little sick if he wasn’t too busy being what could only be described as  _love sick_. 

They came up to their time to finish on the ice, seeing their friends lined up at the edge of the rink talking amongst themselves, having left the rink already. Given how Clyde and Token seemed a bit shorter than the other three Tweek could bet that they’d already ditched their skates. He spared a thought to wonder how long ago they’d left the ice, though the half eaten box of fries in Clyde’s hands gave it away. 

“Wait.” 

He was pulled to a stop by his companion. The piercing blue eyes were back on him, brows pulled together as his expression flittered through a million different things. 

Tweek gave a tentative smile. “Yeah?” 

“Before-before we go join the others…” Craig’s hand moved to pat at the top of his hat again, fingers brushing through the bright blue ball on top of his head. “I-this has been fun. Hanging out with you.” 

“Yeah!” Tweek’s smile split across his face. “It-it’s not been as bad as I thought it would be. The- _fuck_ -I mean the skating, I already  _knew_ that hanging out with you was fun it’s just the  _skating_ that I was kind of unsure about!” 

Craig chuckled at his rambling. “Thanks. I think.” 

“Sure. Yeah. You’re welcome.” 

“So, I mean, if you want to, we could…” Craig looked down to where their hands were still connected and Tweek felt his fingers twitch and squeeze his own. “Do it again, sometime?” 

“What, ice-skate?” 

“Whatever. Ice-skate, go to Taco Bell, but like,  _actually_ go. Just…hang out or something.” 

“I’d like that.” 

Craig’s eyes snapped to his own, his eyebrows lifting and his lips twitching up. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah!” Tweek nodded a little too fast to play it cool. “I-uh-we could always do both?” 

“Cool!” Craig’s lips twitched as a smile began to form across his face, turning into something close to a grimace as his raised his hand and clicked his fingers. “It’s a date.” 

Tweek nearly choked on the laugh that spilled forth from his lips at the fact Craig Tucker had actually just  _finger gunned_ at him. 

“Shit-I need to stop hanging out with Clyde.” 

Tweek recovered long enough to send a toothy smile up at the taller boy. “Yeah, maybe.” 

“I’ll just…hang out with you instead.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

Craig’s eyes flickered over to where Tweek knew their friends were stood. The boy’s expression morphed into a disgruntled scowl before he raised his middle finger over at the other boys, a pinkness rising in his cheeks. Tweek turned to see what the embarrassment was from. 

He saw Clyde pissing himself laughing, while Token and Kyle stood either side of him hiding their amusement behind their hands. Once Tweek’s eyes settled on Stan and Cartman the latter made kissy faces in their general direction. 

He quickly looked back to Craig, bristling at the implication and deciding he needed to get  _the hell_ out of dodge. “We should-?!” 

“Yeah,” Craig nodded before moving his feet and guiding Tweek along. 

Once they joined their friends the teasing came to a halt as they ditched the bladed knife-boots and got their own shoes back from the counter. Tweek tried not to be openly embarrassed when Craig all but snatched his boots out his hands and went to get his shoes for him, feeling both pleased and a little mortified at the look Clyde gave his best friend. The only thing that soothed it was the fact Stan did the exact same for Kyle. 

It was with a small, but heated discussion that they collectively agreed to go get food together. He wasn’t sure if he was thankful that he didn’t have to walk next to Craig and managed to avoid any awkward fumbling in front of everyone as Kyle stood next to him instead, chattering away about the usual bullshit he talked about as Craig walked next to Clyde and Token, the former who was talking about some hot chick who served them at the food counter. 

When they were sat down at a table together he caught Craig’s eyes and felt giddy at the way a wide smile was shot his way. 

It wouldn’t be until after their second date that Clyde would tell him how Craig had lied to him, and he’d never said they were going to Taco Bell to get him to the skating rink. Clyde would assure him that as soon as he told Craig he knew Tweek was going to be there, the dark haired boy was the first one out the house. 

_**EXTRA** _

The five boys stood lined up against the wall of the skating rink, three still wearing skates and two without, staring across the ice at their two friends who were doing another lap. Kyle had finally relented to simply watch them once Stan had argued that Tweek was clearly doing fine, and hadn’t fallen over for a long while and wasn’t even holding the railing anymore, calming the mother hen within the redhead. 

Clyde was practically sniffling with tears of joy. “They’re so fucking cute. I can’t handle it.” 

“This was a pretty good idea, Cartman,” Stan confessed. “I don’t think he’s even going to be mad at you for flinging him across the ice.” 

“Damn straight he ain’t, he should be on his knees thanking me for helping his gay-ass get laid.” 

“It’s kinda sweet,” Kyle agreed. “Hopefully this means we won’t have to watch their weird little uncomfortable flirting when we hang out now.” 

Token sighed before stealing more of Clyde’s fries. “I don’t think so. They’re not going to get any better on that front. If anything this’ll just make it worse.” 

“I don’t care! I love it  _so much_!” Clyde bawled out. 

They fell silent as they watched the pair come to a stop, Craig pulling Tweek towards him as he started talking about something on the other side of the rink. Clyde and Cartman gave loud gasps of anticipation, though the other three couldn’t deny they weren’t hopeful that  _this was it_. 

“He better,” Token hissed out. “If I have to listen to Bebe give him a pep-talk  _one more time_ …” 

The stilted conversation continued, Tweek’s expression changing into a bright grin as his back straightened out and he responded to whatever Craig had asked. Whatever he said had Craig brightening equally, though what happened next seemed so wildly out of character with the grimacing grin and the… 

 _Finger-gun_. 

Clyde lost his shit. “Holy-?! He  _actually did it_!” 

Cartman glared at the other brunette. “Seriously, Clyde? You told him to  _finger gun_ when he asked Tweek out?” 

“Holy fuck I’m so proud!” 

Kyle and Token, standing closest to the hysterical boy, began to snicker behind their hands. Stan couldn’t deny that it was something he didn’t think he’d ever forget  _or_ let Craig live down. 

Craig’s eyes met theirs. He raised a middle finger. Clyde’s laughter got worse. 

“Dude,” Token’s voice quivered with badly concealed chuckles. “He’s gonna be so pissed at you.” 

Stan managed to curb his amusement when Tweek looked over and elbowed his best friend in the ribs in hopes it would help. Kyle didn’t stop laughing. 

Cartman  _did_ make kissy faces. 

“Sometimes I wish I just, like, carried round a camera,” Kyle confessed. “So I could capture these moments and keep them forever.” 

Despite any mishaps and anger that would no doubt be directed their way, the five of them called the day a rousing success. Even when Clyde turned up to school the following week with a nasty bruise on his shoulder. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my favourites I've written so far it's so damn sappy I love it.


End file.
